


Til I Get Satisfied

by Nanyoky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Infinity Gems, Infinity War Speculation, Mind Gem (Marvel), Speculation, Time Gem (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanyoky/pseuds/Nanyoky
Summary: Based on a song inspired thought from EssayOfThoughts.The street is wet. Her spine is straight. And the stone is hot in her hand.





	Til I Get Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EssayOfThoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/gifts).



> I have SO MANY other prompts that I've been neglecting, but I over-caffeinated, Essay and I realized we had the same thoughts about the song "Me and the Devil" by Soap and Skin, and then the Infinity War trailer got a leaked bootleg and now I'm just REALLY ALIVE. Y'all are lucky that I didn't go full ff.net in 2008 and write in lyrics interspersed in true songfic fashion.  
> ANYWAY. Here is one of the possibly hundreds of Infinity War plotlines I would find acceptable for Wanda. Please note I'm still very over caffeinated and now sleep deprived, so apologies if this does not come out as polished as my usual fare.

_“I only ask to use it once.”_

 

The snow is only slush in the gutters now, but the air is still cold. Wanda shivers as she pulls her knees to her chest and stares at the wet road and tries to think calmly. The air is cold and the cobbles are wet under her and she didn’t know that Vision could scream.

She supposes she shouldn’t have doubted it. He could speak, of course. So he had the ability to communicate. But part of her hadn’t consider how that might extend to involuntary expressions of pain.

Wanda crouches behind a car, tensed, waiting for some sign. He is still screaming and she wishes he would stop. It makes her veins feel cold. Her veins and her stomach. If she didn’t feel so cold, she might be able to process things better. To come up with a plan. To think of what she can do now, and what she can tell the others later.

The screaming stops and the lump in her throat rises.

“Don’t hurt him! Get your hands off of him!” Her voice peaks and breaks over the words. But she stays where she is.

She could stand up. Stand up and do something about all this. But she didn’t actually know how many of them there were. There were at least five. And she didn’t know the extent of their abilities or weapons. Steve would probably say this was a situation for strategy rather than jumping in without a plan. Then he would jump in without a plan. Wanda tries to breath and think of the possibilities. There were civilians in the area. Civilians limit her options. Anyone would understand her hesitancy with reacting to hostiles around civilians, with her history.

Vision screamed again and it is the worst sound she’s heard as she stares at the splintered shopfront across the sidewalk from where she crouches and stays where she is.

 

_“I don’t want to see it.”_

 

A gauntleted hand grips her bicep and she screams, but is cut off by an electric pain in her side. She blacks out for only a moment. The quiet is deafening. When she opens her eyes, the night sky is too close. A boot nudges her aching stomach and she retches.

“Don’t touch me.” Her snarl would have been more convincing if she hadn’t been shaking so hard.

More electric pain. She chokes and sobs once, then tries to catch her breath.

“On your feet, witch.”

“That would be easier if you would stop that!” Her rage supersedes her fatigue and pain to allow her voice to carry weight.

The boots withdraw and she pushes herself to her feet. The air is warmer- not warm- but not cold any longer. Wanda drops the jacket she was wearing and takes a careful look at her surroundings. She is not any real place, because the stars are all around, except under her feet. The path around her is rocky and jagged, but clear. Steps. Steps winding back and forth and leading upward.

The guard who had been ordering her steps closer and she only turns her head, her chin lifted. Pride had always been a first defense. But he—it—only extended a hand, and pressed the glowing amber stone into her palm.

 

_“One for another. More than a fair trade.”_

 

Her steps are dull and echoing on the rock stairs. She walks at a steady pace and it becomes rhythmic, almost soothing. If her muscles weren’t tensed, waiting for something. But the ones who brought her here were holding back, meters behind her, following at a relaxed distance. There was nowhere she could go.

Wanda tries to think of anything but Vision’s scream. It was both too human and not human enough. She wondered what the mechanics of his voice were. If he had something resembling vocal chords or if it was some kind of electronic response his mind typed into in order to make words. Maybe he only moved his lips to make them all more comfortable.

The stone is hot in her hand. She thinks there will be a scar.

“Awake at last.”

She reaches the man at the apex and thinks it’s terribly ostentatious that he sits on a literal black throne as he looks down on her. She wonders how long he waited, simply for the drama of this arrangement. Wanda keeps her spine straight and her chin lifted.

There are five glinting lights at his knuckles that seem brighter even than the closest stars in the purple velvet around them. The sixth shines bright through her hand, like she is gripping a lightbulb or hot coals. She swallows.

“He is dead, isn’t he?”

The man—thing—smiles and his voice is deliberate and deep. “I don’t know if I would ever have called him alive.”

Wanda allows one breath to shake before clearing her throat. “I would like my price, Thanos.”

 

_“He trusts me. And I distract him.”_

 

She opens her eyes in the church at the center of the city with the metal men crawling over rubble towards her. This time- oh, this time—what a wonderful thing to think: _this time_ —she has the control of two more years experience to rally her mist and let it out in a wave. Deliberately this time. Earlier this time.

“By all the souls in Hel!” the mountain of a man booms and laughs and she runs before he can ask where she is going.

She knows where he is. Can still feel the tether between their minds tugging at one another for the first time in two years and she cries. The tear flow down her face as she twists her ankle on a bit of concrete pulled loose from the ground but keeps running and loving every moment of pain. She doesn’t think she’s ever run like this before and wonders if it feels this way to him. The city shudders under her, already so high in the air. The rubble here is dry and she doesn’t hear Vision’s scream in the back of her mind anymore.

She sees them. She sees them and rushes on to slide to her knees and throw up the shield just in time to cover them all.

 

_“Vision, do you feel pain?”_

 

“Fuck-“ Pietro huffs out a laugh and offers his forearm to pull her up. “Close, yeah?”

Wanda doesn’t say anything but feels the blood trickle down from her torn knees and his eyes are amused and barely surprised to see her because two years has been perhaps eight minutes and her near-bursting lungs rattle and she throws her arms around his neck and her lips press to his jaw and his hands fall to her back and her nails bite into one palm as she grips the stone.

She blinks and the stone is no longer hot in her hand. They are huddle together in a seat on the helicarrier. The city that raised them falls back to earth and people scream and cry. Someone passes them shock blankets and asks if they have serious injuries. They wave the emergency worker off.

“What now?” He was always the one to ask, trusting she had a plan.

“They will ask us to stay on. Since we have no home to go back to.”

He grips her hand and runs his thumb over her torn knuckles. Wanda burrows into his side and presses her cheek to his heart, assuring herself of its rhythm.

“And will we? Stay with them?”

“No.” She breaths in the cool mountain mist and breaths out until her lungs protest. “We will learn Arabic. I want somewhere hot and dry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Essay's prompt was: imagine wanda going to thanos carrying the mind Stone while Me and the Devil plays


End file.
